


Butterfly

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Drama/Romance, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 05:37:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/794486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blair is desperately trying to keep Jim from finding out his secret: he is developing hyperactive senses.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Butterfly

I am posting this story for my sister, Quill. This is her first Sentinel story, and she wants me to remind you that these characters are not hers and that she doesn't intend to infringe on anyone's copyrights by using them. The story can be archived, under Drama/Romance, with my e-mail addy on it. It has a pretty general rating, and it begins shortly after the 2nd season episode, Dead Drop. Hope you like it! 

>   
>  __
> 
> *Before Butterflies are released on the world, they have to go through different stages of life... First a pupae stage, then they are imprisoned in a beautiful chrysalis. Then and only then are they free to fly with the other Butterflies.*

## Butterfly

by Quill  


Blair rolled himself up into a tight ball, squashing the pillow tightly around his head. -- He *wasn't* hearing the breathing of his partner who was asleep 30 feet away from him. He wasn't nodding in time to Jim's heartbeat... *He wasn't!* 

"A Guide is a Guide," Blair muttered to himself, "and a Sentinel is a Sentinel. One can't be the other..." Tightening his hold on the pillow, Blair moaned these words silently to himself over and over and over... 

That time in the lift -- scared senseless that any minute, any second, the lift would drop and he'd be dead, Blair had strained to hear, to see, *to know*, what was going on outside. Every time Jim or Simon spoke to him on the cell phone he'd catch a glimpse of what was happening -- but just that, a glimpse, then the lift would drop the next five floors and his brain would start screaming about bloody bodies and death. Then, suddenly, everything had come together as he caught a whiff of the welding that had been going on before the last drop. "Welding?" And then he was on his hands and knees, cutting away the carpet, cutting away the floor. He had no idea how that smell could still be in the air after that five floor drop, but he knew that just that one whiff of burning had helped him come up with a way of saving of them all. 

And now? Now he was scared because he knew just how he had picked up on that scent. "I'm a Guide," he groaned, his fingers buried deep into the soft mass of his pillow. "A Sentinel needs a Guide, not another Sentinel. I am a Guide." Blair kept lying to himself as he listened to Jim's every breath, every heartbeat. And he kept lying to himself even as his sensitive fingertips felt each and every different thread of the pillowcase he held to his ringing ears. All through that long night he kept lying to himself.   
  


* * *

Jim finished the report and hit the save button, now all he needed to do was print the damn thing up, sign it and give it to Simon... the end to a long day, and a long week. Twisting his neck a little to loosen tight muscles, Jim turned and caught sight of his Guide. The kid was tucked in his usual corner, reading another one of those huge books of his. *Where does he find those dust collectors?* Jim shook his head and reached over for the now printing pages. Letting his eyes flick over the words of his report, Jim finally nodded and signed his name on the bottom of the last page. Turning, Jim was about to shove the papers under Blair's nose to get the kid's signature when he noticed something. In the kid's hand was a ruler, a plain, wooden ruler, the kind that everybody has used for years. But it wasn't the ruler that was really caught his attention, it was what Blair was doing to that ruler. 

The kid's thumb was slowly rubbing across its wooden surface. He probably didn't even realise what he was doing, but Jim could see his thumb was following the imprint of lines and numbers on that plain wooden ruler. Frowning, Jim slowly opened his desk draw and pulled out a twin of the ruler Blair was holding, mimicking what his partner was doing, Jim let his thumb run across the, to him, rough surface of the ruler. Looking down, he saw that his thumb was following the same movements of Blair's and as it did he could feel the, to him, huge gouge that was the number five. 

Blair turned the page, trying to read the chronicle of the Portuguese explorer. He had gone back to read everything that even mentioned Guides. He had to find out if what was happening to him was real, or if somehow he was picking up on what his Sentinel was feeling. *Ah, Man, I hope so,* prayed a deep part of Blair's soul, because if what he suspected was indeed happening, that he was somehow becoming a Sentinel, then he'd have to leave Jim... and he didn't want to, not at all. 

"Damn," muttered Blair as he finished reading, not finding what he was after. Placing the book on the desk in front of him, Blair rested the ruler across the pages, not wanting to lose his place. There was a passage, in one of his books, that mentioned *something* about Guides, but as he was only interested in finding out as much as he could about Sentinels, he'd just skimmed those pages... If only he could remember what book it had been in! 

Papers that were a different shade to the pages of his book suddenly appeared in front of him and Blair blinked up into Jim's eyes. 

"Sign the last page, Sandburg and we can get out of here." 

Picking up the report, Blair scanned the words quickly, unconsciously his gripping fingers felt the warmth where Jim had held the paper only seconds ago. Shuddering as he realised what he was doing, Blair quickly signed the report and handed it back to his partner. He had to get a hold of himself! Just how the hell had Jim handled all this... this sensation? The only reason he wasn't losing it like Jim had done all those months ago was because he at least had some idea of what was going on. 

Signing under Jim's name, Blair handed it to his partner without raising his eyes, and pretended to go back to reading his book, all the time watching Jim make his way into Simon's office. Again, without any conscious thought, Blair tuned into the conversation between Jim and the Captain. 

"Damn!" swore Blair as he heard those two voices clear as a bell, "I've got to stop doing this..." Slamming the book closed, Blair shoved it into his backpack. "Kelly?" he spoke to the uniform at the next desk, "Tell Jim I had to leave, okay?" 

"Sure, Blair," smiled the blonde, sighing a little as the cutest butt in the bullpen moved away from her. 

Hitting the sidewalk, Blair started to walk, as he'd come in with Jim in the truck. He had to get a handle on all this. After all his research Blair knew that there was no way to 'turn-off' these senses, he was stuck with them and he had no idea why. Hitching his backpack a little higher, Blair flagged down an approaching taxi. He had every book ever printed about Sentinels back at his office at the U. He was going to find that damn elusive passage if it took him all weekend!   
  


* * *

Blair never realised just how many books he had gathered that mentioned Sentinels one way or another. It took Blair several days, aching eyes and sore back muscles, but he finally found the book and the passage, and after reading it several times he stared at the words until they blurred into a mass of meaningless squiggles. 

*Many Guides never take that final step, either unwilling or unable to compete with their Protectors, but to a few comes a time when the Guide has to choose to crossover and become a Protector or die. These choices usually happen when the Guide's own Protector is unable to safeguard him and the only way he can survive is to let his own latent abilities free. This happening, unfortunately, has been known to call an end to the pairing, as many Protectors have highly territorial attitudes.* 

Blair buried his face into his hands. "Why now?" he muttered. "Why not when Lash had me? Or any of those other times?" Fear and anger finally grabbing hold of him, Blair picked up the offending book and threw it across his office, cursing the Gods above and the Demons below in all the languages he knew. Taking a deep breath Blair scrubbed the stiffness from his face. He was Jim's Guide, no matter what was going on, he was still Jim's Guide and nothing and no-one was going to change that. Climbing to his feet, Blair crossed the room and picked up the book, straightening the crushed pages before closing it and replacing it on the shelf. His hand froze just as he was slipping it back in it's place... 

Jim. 

The newly born Sentinel part of him was sensing his partner heading his way and the Guide part was almost hysterical as he realised that he could know that. He had to keep this secret. Blair took a deep breath and moved back to his desk, pretending to work. Without realising he was doing it, Blair calmed his breathing and his heartbeat in a way that he had never done before. Jim *mustn't* know!   
  


* * *

Blair knew that just because everything was collapsing around you the world rolled on, and nothing you did or thought could change one second. He got up every morning, made Jim his breakfast and either followed Jim to the station, or headed for the university. Life went on and Blair Sandburg went with it. 

Every time he felt his blooming Sentinel abilities start to over-take him, Blair made some excuse to his partner and disappeared for as long as it took for the world to right itself. Thankfully everything that he had taught Jim was there for him. He could tell when a zone-out was about to hit him and Blair managed to force his other senses to halt that one overpowering sense. The only thing he couldn't stop was the complete awareness of his partner's whereabouts. Where ever he was, all Blair had to do was close his eyes and point and he knew, *he knew* that Jim Ellison was in that direction. At night, while his partner slept Blair could just about hear his dreams... and that scared Blair more then anything else did. 

Where had this awareness come from? Jim had never mentioned this. *But then,* thought Blair, *How do you tell someone that you know them soul deep? That just about every secret that person had was there for the reading, if one was a Sentinel.*   
  


* * *

Throwing his keys in the basket as he entered the loft, Blair looked at the clock on the wall and sighed. Jim was working back late tonight which meant he had at least four hours before the older Sentinel was due home. Plenty of time to do a couple of experiments. 

"Sandburg, this is really a dumb thing to do," Blair told himself. The young man pushed away the thought that this kind of thing was dangerous without a Guide, but he knew he had no choice in the matter. What could he do? Even with all he'd learnt from being Jim's Guide these last few years, it was one thing to talk about something and completely different to feel that something as it hit you right between the eyes. 

Twenty-five minutes later, as he sat cross-legged on the rug in his room, Blair Sandburg zoned, big time. 

*...hmm weird that's a nice colour wonder what it's called I like that one too and doesn't it smell strange I didn't know colours smelt.....* 

*ohmanohmanohmanohmanohmanohmanohmanohmanohmanohmanohmanoh* 

*...........wonder what that thumping is oh it's my heart doesn't it sound slow better speed it up a little now it's too fast.........* 

*ohmanohmanohmanohmanohmanohmanohmanohmanohmanohmanohmanoh* 

"Sandburg!" 

*ohmanohmanohmanohmanohmanohmanohmanohmanohmanohmanohmanoh* 

*......That's Jim what's Jim doing here where's here....* 

*ohmanohmanohmanohmanohmanohmanohmanohmanohmanohmanohmanoh* 

*Oh man!* Just about then, Blair felt his head hit the floor as he fell backwards. The door to his room flew open and Blair blinked up to see Jim frowning down at him. 

"Chief? You okay?" 

"Jim? Geez, man, you made me jump, I was meditating." Blair flashed a look at his alarm clock and cringed inside as he realised he'd been in a zone-out for over three hours. Talking his way around the whole episode was automatic and Blair soon had Jim helping him make dinner, the older Sentinel none the wiser just what Blair had been doing.   
  


* * *

After his close call of almost being caught by Jim in a zone-out, Blair decided to do something he'd been putting together in the back of his mind. He knew that there was no way to 'turn-off' the Sentinel abilities, but after what he'd learnt from Jim, he knew he could turn the damn things down! Turn that dial down low enough that he'd have the senses of a normal person, instead of a Sentinel's. 

Sooo, Jim was out of the way for the day - some meeting at the station that only 'real' cops could attend. Taking a deep breath, Blair reached out for the dish holding the small pile of curry. Holding the dish under his nose, Blair concentrated on his sense of smell, slowly turning the dial down until his nose stopped tickling and his eyes stopped watering from the overpowering scent. As the dial clicked down to zero, Blair closed his eyes in relief that it worked. 

One by one, Blair turned the dials down. Taste and hearing went the same way. Touch was harder because if he turned it down too far he couldn't feel his hands or feet, so he had to leave that dial up a little. And sight? Staring across the loft, Blair concentrated and slowly pulled back his sight until things started to get blurry. Locking all the dials, Blair pulled his glasses out and slipped them on. 

Flicking his tongue into the powered curry, Blair tasted and smelled nothing. His hearing could barely pick up the sound of traffic and without his glasses the whole room was a blur. Falling backwards onto the carpet Blair sighed in relief. Climbing to his feet, Blair moved over to the windows as he felt his new reality slid into place. The world had become a pale, flat world - grey and muffled. But he knew he would never turn those dials back up if it meant that he could stay here as Jim's Guide. That book had said that many Sentinels were territorial about their domain and the young grad student remembered all the times Jim had blown up as the case he worked on had been taken over by the Fed's or other people. Jim Ellison did not like people moving in on his turf so what would he think of a new Sentinel on the block? Blair did *not* want to find out. 

And life in the city of Cascade for a man who was once a Guide moved on...   
  


* * *

For once, Jim found himself working through a pile of paperwork that seemed never ending. Sandburg hadn't made his usual complaints about getting stuck with the paper work but the kid had been busy at the University so much lately so that when Simon found out how far behind he was, the Captain had *suggested* that Jim get to work. *At least,* reasoned Jim as he struggled with the damn printer again, * the kid knew what to do when the damn toner ran out!* 

"Shit," swore Jim, as his finger got pinched yet again. "I *hate* paperwork," he grumbled to himself. 

"ELLISON!" 

Even hearing his name bellowed out by his Captain in that voice that told everyone in the bullpen that something was going down, was a relief... but not for long.   
  


* * *

Blair shepherded the students out of the classroom, the grin he was flashing was starting to make his face ache. *Why were these things always happening to me?* The one time he's asked to cover a detention class for a friend, and *this* happens. Bad grades, drugs, guns and stupidity all add up to a hostage situation with one Blair Sandburg, trouble magnet, stuck right in the middle, *again*. 

Getting the kids away from the loons had taken just about every bit of equivocating and devious ability Blair had. What he came out with would have shocked Jim down to his very bones, but Blair managed to get the dope heads into thinking he was on their side and that he was taking the kids to a place that would hold them better. Make it impossible for the cops to rescue them... Which was true in a sense, because Blair was doing the rescuing. 

The dim corridors in the maze of buildings turned to tunnels, and Blair hurried the group along as fast as he could in the darkening tunnels. Reluctantly, Blair slowly turned his muted senses up one by one, wincing as everything came back on-line. Pulling off his glasses, Blair shoved them away and rubbed the bridge of his nose. *God, that hurt,* he grunted to himself as the dark tunnel seemed to flair into mid-day brightness and every little sound echoed in his ears. Pulling his eyes, and ears back into line, Blair got the kids to hold hands and follow after him. 

"We need a place to hide," he muttered to the frightened students, "until the cops can deal with those crack-heads." 

"But where?" whispered one of the older girls. 

"There're a lot of storage rooms down here, all we need is one deep enough and dark enough to keep those idiots away from us." 

"Why don't we just look for a way out?" grumbled on of the guys. 

"Because," growled Blair, "by now those crack-heads should have realised I've tricked them and they're probably looking for us and I doubt they'll be so nice to us next time they catch us. On top of that, this place should be over flowing with cops soon and I really don't want to get stuck between two lots of people with big guns." 

Muffled agreements echoed his words and the group started to shuffle after him again. 

"Hey, Professor, how come you can see so good in this light?" grunted one of the guys after he walked into the kid in front of him for the third time. 

"Carrots," hissed Blair back, "Now, for Gods sake, be quite! Do you want to lead those crack-head right to us?" 

Finally, Blair found what he was looking for. Pushing open a rectangle on the wall that was a darker colour then the wall itself, Blair got his followers into the, to them, pitch blackness of the room. 

Pushing his charges down onto the floor, he quickly explained his plan... "The bad guys are behind and the cops are in front and we're between." Blair listened for a moment, then went on, "Both lots are heading this way, let's just lay low here until the shooting stops." 

"Shooting!" squeaked one of the girls. 

Blair quickly shoved his hand over her mouth and hissed a "shhh!" into her ear and pushed her back down. With his students in the deep shadows of the blind spot of the room, Blair lay there and listened, straining his ears to pick up every breath of the people slowly converging on the room he and his people were hiding.   
  


* * *

*Again, Blair,* thought Ellison as he led his men through the dark tunnels beneath Sandburg's University. *What is with you and trouble?* The men behind him were all wearing infra-red goggles, but unlike his, their's were turned on. Holding up a hand, Jim listened for a long moment, picking up his Guide's heartbeat, around which were seven quicker heartbeats. *Eight, good,* muttered Ellison to himself, somehow the kid had managed to get all the hostages away, and hidden in a safe place. After this was all over, he really wanted to hear how the kid had managed to pull that off. Jim waved his people on and he and his squad moved right past the door Blair and the others were hiding behind. While he started to concentrate on the upcoming firefight, one part of the Sentinel was thankful that his Guide wasn't going to get caught in the middle yet again.   
  


* * *

As he stood there watching Jim and Simon talk, Blair felt that while part of him was thankful that everything had turned out so well, another part of Blair, the part he'd kept on a tight leash along with his now free senses, wanted to show Jim the reason why it had been possible for him to do it. But Blair quickly clamped down on that thought as words from that damn book echoed in his mind -- *...many Protectors have highly territorial attitudes.* 

Yes, he'd kept the hostages safe, and Jim and the other cops had managed to catch the crack-heads one at a time as they had searched for the escaping kids. But it was he that had done the rescuing... *Him* Blair Sandburg... 

Suddenly Blair frowned as one of the female agents from the DEA walked over and interrupted the Captain and Jim. He frowned even harder as the woman's hand rested on Jim's arm. Leaning back against Jim's truck, Blair did something that he swore that he would never, ever do. Tuning in his hearing as he had taught his Sentinel, Blair listened to the female agent's praise of the bust. He watched as Simon smilingly backed away from the conversation, leaving Jim and that... that female alone to talk. 

Shuddering down to his soul, Blair pulled back his hearing as the praise got just that little bit sickening. And as he stood there waiting for his partner to remember him, Blair bit his lip hard as Jim smiled down at the brunette, nodding as if he agreed to do something and Blair Sandburg suddenly realised that territorial boundaries could come to mean many things. 

Taking a deep breath, Blair turned away and headed for the nearest black and white. He bummed a lift from the cops back to the station and made his way up to Jim's desk, to start making out his version of the report.   
  


* * *

Blair felt Jim getting closer and closer and he could sense the displeasure radiating from the man. Pretending that he didn't hear the other Sentinel's heartbeat as the man left the lift, Blair put the finishing touches to his report. Without raising his eyes from the screen, Blair knew that Jim had halted just inside the doors to the bullpen, the younger man could feel the heat from his body and that heat rose as his pissed off partner moved across the room. Forcing himself not to move, Blair felt the air currents around his head swirl as Jim's hand lifted and cuffed the back of his head. 

"Jim! Hey!" *That's it, surprise and bewilderment.* "What was that for?" 

"Where the Hell did you disappear to?" 

*Pretend, Sandburg, pretend that everything's fine...* "I saw that you might be a bit longer with the DEA so I thought I'd come back here and get my report done - I gotta get back to the University, I've got classes back to back today." Meeting Jim's gaze openly, Blair felt a trickle of fear down deep in his soul - How easy it was to lie to Jim now he was able to control himself; Sentinel body against Sentinel senses. 

He felt his partners eyes on him as he turned back to the computer keys. "I've only got to print this up and sign it, then I'm out of here. OK?" Blair looked up again to meet Jim's eyes unflinchingly, but a flash of red on Jim's shoulder captured his eyes and Blair zeroed in on the long red hair. His nostril's flared; her scent was still clinging to his partner's clothing. 

"Blair? Sandburg!" 

Jim's finger poked him in the shoulder, breaking him out of the first stages of a zone-out and he prayed that Jim wouldn't recognise what had happened from the outside. Blair climbed to his feet and he just happened to push the chair towards the side of the desk were Jim was standing, so he had to go the other way. Smiling, always smiling, Blair made damn sure he in no way touched Jim. Something was going on with him and it was more then having unbound his senses after they'd been locked away for so long. 

"Hey, Jim," he signed his name on the bottom of the last page, "Can you give this to Simon, I really gotta get back to Rainier." And if there was Sentinel speed, Blair used it as he fled the presence of his partner.   
  


* * *

Open mouthed, Jim looked from Sandburg's report to the closing door of the stairwell. "What the hell?" Shaking his head, Jim momentarily wondered if he'd ever really understand one Blair Sandburg. 

Finishing his own report and waiting for it to print up, Jim casually picked up Sandburg's and started to read, smiling as he did so. The kid had learnt how to fill out a police report without using words that made Simon growl - Short, sharp and to the point. 

Standing, Jim was about to head into Simon's office when something he'd just read clicked into place. Sitting back down, Jim flicked through the pages until he found what he was looking for: 

*...I managed to keep my students calm as Detective Ellison and the other police officers moved past our hiding place. And we stayed there until Detective Brown came for us...* 

How had Blair known he'd been in that group of police moving through those tunnels? Then again, how had he known they'd been police? For all Sandburg knew, it could very well have been those crack-heads searching for him and the other kids. 

Quickly getting into the correct screen, Jim printed up his own copy of Blair's report and as the pages printed, Jim hurriedly gave in his and Blair's reports before scooping up the warmish pages, reading the words a little slower this time, absorbing everything his partner had written. He wanted to have a closer look at this, something was going on and he wanted to know what. 

Other questions swam to the surface as Jim read and re-read the report. He'd always known his Guide was resourceful, but just how the hell had he managed this? How had Sandburg maneuvered his way down those corridors and dark tunnels? Jim didn't know why he was bothered by these little irregularities, but he was. In his reports, because he knew they were the break or make of Jim's cases, Blair had always, *always*, written the facts as they had happened, unlike his verbal reports that always had you editing bits and pieces. 

On the surface, the report was clear and to the point, and unless you'd been there, in those tunnels, in that situation, it all seemed a perfectly straight forward account. But Jim *had* been in those tunnels - he knew how dark that corridor was. And the room Blair and the kids had been hiding in? Well, Jim knew that Brown had had a devil of a time finding the place from Jim's directions and the detective had been using a powerful electric torch. 

Still holding Sandburg's report, Jim headed downstairs to the parking garage. Tapping the rolled-up pages against his thigh other things slowly began to seep into the detective's brain - little things really - but taken on the whole, worryingly things. 

"Taste," whispered part of Jim's brain as he unlocked his truck. His room-mate had stopped cooking all those spicy recipes Blair had loved and when Jim had commented on it , Blair had just shrugged and murmured, '...haven't got the taste for it at the moment, Big Guy...' For weeks now not one overly spicy meal until even Jim admitted, to himself at least, that the food had become a bit blah. 

"Sight," came another whisper as he threw the crumpled pages onto the passengers seat - Blair's seat. All that darkness, and Blair had found his way so very easily. 

"Hearing? Smell?" How *had* Blair known Jim and the other cops had travelled past that hiding place? He and his men were well trained, they had been completely undetectable and yet Blair had known they passed by from behind a closed door. 

Then something else came to mind, Blair had seemed hit by a series of absent mindlessness several months ago... and today? Today Jim had noticed them coming back, that blank look on his Guides face, as if he had been a hundred miles away. 

"Completely out of it..." Jim heard his words as he said them and only when he heard them did he really analyse them. "Almost like a zone-out," whispered Jim, as he stopped the truck in front of the loft, and as that thought hit him, he shook his head to get rid of it. Maybe it was just a Guide thing, after all they knew as little about the Guide side of things as they knew about Sentinels. Of which, Jim admitted to himself, he knew nothing at all. Oh, he listened to Blair's suggestions, used them and when they worked, kept right on using them, but other then that, what *did* he know? 

Jumping out of the truck, Jim glanced at his watch as he headed upstairs. It was still early, and if Blair had back to back classes then maybe he could get in a little reading. Letting himself into the loft, Jim headed straight for Blair's room. Over the last year or so, Jim had figured out his Guide's filing system. The books and articles that Blair was interested in were kept piled up next to the bed, ready for him just to reach over and snag what he wanted. 

Sitting on the edge of Sandburg's bed, Jim ran a finger across the spines of the books piled on the floor. As he did so, he noticed that several books on the top had fresh scraps of paper used as bookmarks. Jim lifted these onto his lap and felt the paper, then reached a little lower on the pile and smoothed that paper between his sensitive fingers. Yes, definitely the books he now held had fresher paper. Standing, Jim carried these out into the main room, heading over to the table. Putting the books down, Jim went over to the fridge for a beer and then sat down, opening the first book.   
  


* * *

Pushing open the door to his office Blair dumped the papers he was holding on his desk. Class was finally finished for another day so he could go home whenever he wanted. Blair scrubbed his face with tired hands as that word floated around in his mind. 

Home. 

"Yeah, home," whispered Blair almost silently, "but for how much longer? What if Jim finds out?" 

Dropping down into his chair, Blair took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Now that everything was basically back to normal, Blair knew he had to lock his senses back into their little boxes before Jim began to suspect the truth. Concentrating, breathing deeply, Blair tuned into himself and began what he'd had done so successfully all those months ago but to his growing amazement and fear, nothing would co-operate. Unable to lock anything down, Blair felt his senses skidding all over the place. 

Every time the young Sentinel thought he had a hold of something, all that came to mind was Jim. Jim seemed to fill the room around him, and yet when Blair opened his eyes, startled, he found himself still alone, locked in his office, miles away from his partner. 

"What's the hell's wrong with me?" groaned Blair, slumping backwards. Then he got a grip on himself and started again. Concentrating... Concentrating so hard, that Blair couldn't stop what happened... 

Jim's scent was still drifting around him from when the man had swatted him earlier. His mind fully opened to his senses, Blair opened his mouth, drawing that one unique scent deep inside, tasting Jim on the tip of his tongue. And the man's touch... it's warmth still seemed to radiate out from that contact that had lasted only a fraction of a second. 

And as three of his senses fed on this minuscule piece of Jim Ellison, the other two tried to join in, and before Blair realised what was happening, his hearing and sight united and went in search of his absent partner. 

But Jim was too far away, much too far away, and unfortunately Blair was in no state to realise that...   
  


* * *

Jim waded through the books, thankful that the education Blair often seemed to forget he had would help him to get through most of the long-winded explanations. Lifting the bottle, Jim noticed that it was empty, so he climbed to his feet, dumped the empty and pulled out another. But instead of going back to the table and the pile of books, Jim moved over to the windows and stared out at the city lights. How the hell did Blair even figure out what those guys were talking about, let alone put it all together and come up with Sentinels and Guides? After throwing a look at the clock, Jim moved over to the phone and rang the number to Blair's office. The kid usually spent an hour or so in his office after days like today, in case any of his students needed to talk to him, so Jim was fairly certain Blair'd be there... 

The phone rang out. 

Frowning, then shrugging, Jim tried Blair's cell phone... 

Again the phone rang out. Jim knew Blair had the cell phone on him, and after that hell in the lift, the kid kept it fully charged at all times. Shaking his head, Jim went over to the table and started to pile Blair's books back in order, before taking them back to Blair's room. Picking up the phone in Blair's room, Jim tried again. Maybe the kid went to the bathroom or something. 

No answer... 

Replacing the receiver, Jim wandered out of the bedroom and sat down in front of the TV and started to channel surf, but his eyes kept drifting from the phone, to the clock and back again.   
  


* * *

Jim walked through the dark, echoing corridors of the University. Blair was in his office, Jim could feel his Guide's heartbeat... but if Blair was there, why the hell hadn't he answered the phone? He'd been ringing since nine and it was now after midnight. 

Holding his gun loosely in his hand, Jim carefully unlocked the door with the key Blair had given him ages ago - he'd discovered that even here, trouble could find his partner. 

But Jim wasn't expecting to find Blair just sitting there in his chair, his back to the door. "Blair? Damn it, Sandburg!" Feeling angry at the guy for not answering the damn phone, Jim reached out and spun the chair around. "What the hell..." Jim started to snarl until the chair was facing him, and then he saw the blank, staring eyes. For a frantic moment Jim though he was looking into dead eyes, then he felt and heard the heartbeat under his trembling hand. 

Even Jim had to believe what was right in front of him. Blair, his Guide, *his Guide*, was in the grip of a major zone-out, and Jim had absolutely no idea how to get him out of it. 

Kneeling down on the cold floor, Jim grasped Blair's hands tightly between his. "Oh, Christ," he swore, "it *is* a zone-out. Damn it, Sandburg, what the hell have you been up to now?" Dropping the hands, Jim reached up and started to shake the to still body of his partner. "Wake up, damn you, Chief, wake the hell up!" But those blue eyes still stared at a point a million miles away. 

Slumping in defeat, Jim rested his head on Blair's knees. "Come on, Chief, wake up..." Blair had brought him out of dozens of zone-outs but as he'd always been on the receiving end of things, Jim had no idea how the kid had managed it. 

Suddenly the hands that had been resting limp under his hands twitched and Jim felt them grasp at his. Lifting his head, Jim met the blank gaze. 

"Blair?" Straightening his back, Jim reached out and cupped Blair's face. "Blair? You in there, Chief?" He gave that blank face a gentle shake. "Come on, partner, this is supposed to be your job, not mine." 

Those blue eyes blinked rapidly several times, and Jim saw something spark down deep in them. Jim watched as Blair's nostril's flared and Blair's chest rose as it filled with air. Then he felt Blair's hands touch his chest, and slowly run up his arms. 

"That's it, Chief, wake up. Yeah, that's it..." The hands moved to rest on Jim's shoulders, then the next thing Jim knew, they were cupping his face, duplicating his own hold on his now awakening partner. And those blue eyes seemed to actually looking at him, and not some far away point. 

"Sight..." 

Jim frowned as that word whispered pass barely moving lips. "What? Sandburg?" 

"Touch... Sound... Scent... " mere whispers of sound. 

Jim felt like shaking the kid again. What the hell was he going on about? 

"And taste..." 

Still frowning, Jim automatically leaned a little closer as that last word was more mouthed then spoken. And without realising it, he leaned right into it. The next thing he knew, Jim felt the tingle of Blair's tongue as it flicked against his chin. 

"Hhmm," rumbled Blair. "Taste..."   
  


* * *

The sound of a very familiar voice echoed around the loneliness of Blair Sandburg's soul. Then Blair blinked and Jim Ellison was in front of him, touching him, as it should be. With his hands cupping Jim's face, Blair could feel the heat of arousal flowing under his hands. Running his tongue across his lips and Blair could *taste* Jim in the very air. 

Blair had always wondered, down deep, how Jim Ellison, the Sentinel, had made love. Would he turn his senses up so that he could enjoy every little piece of his partner? Or did he have to turn it way down so that his senses didn't overpower him? 

Opening all his newly released senses on the man in front of him, Blair found that he really didn't need them at all. Sentinel sight or not - Blair could see the arousal in those blue eyes. Sentinel touch or not - Blair could feel the arousal sweeping through the body under his hands 

But his other enhanced senses - Jim's heartbeat was as out of control as his, Blair could hear the two hearts tuning into each other. And scent? *Is that what arousal really smells like? I like it!* 

"Taste..." Blair didn't realise he'd spoken out loud as he slowly leaned forward to run his tongue across Jim's chin. 

Jim Ellison, pure and undiluted. 

The younger Sentinel kept his hands cradling the unshaven cheeks of the older one and let his thumbs run across the coarseness of the bristles on his partner's face. Then he leaned forward and nestled his cheek against Jim's, breathing in deeply the tang of the man under his hands. 

"God, Jim," moaned Blair as he let one of his hands slid around and cup Jim's nape. "How do you stand this?" 

Jim felt Blair's hands tighten on his face after his wet tongue had flicked against his chin, shivering as Blair's voice flowed over his cheek and down his neck. "Blair?" whispered Jim, who, even with all his strength was unable to break free from that gentle clasp. "What are you doing?" Then he felt Blair's own bristles slide against his until Blair had his face buried in Jim's shoulder. "Oh, god, Blair," groaned Jim as he realised what Blair was doing. 

Blair rested his open mouth against the shivering skin of Jim's neck. Just resting it there, breathing hot, moist air against Jim's sensitive flesh, seemingly knowing exactly what to do to get Jim's senses overloading. The kid's right hand was gently rubbing the back of Jim's neck, while the other caressed his cheek, the thumb stroking across dry lips. And all the time the air resounded with a litany of murmured words coming from the smaller form that rested against Jim's shaking body. 

"That's it, Jim," whispered Blair, taking deep breaths, pulling in the taste of the man he was holding down deep into his soul. "Breathe me in, take my scent as I'm taking your's. Can you taste me, Jim? How do I taste? You... Oh, God, you taste like a hot afternoon on the beach, Jim. Salty from the ocean and lazy from the heat. hmmm... And your scent?" Blair flicked his tongue out to touch a rivulet of sweat. "Your truck, after we've spent all night on a stakeout. I would sit there, drifting between dreams breathing your taste and it's only now that I realise that I've always known you... always..." 

"Ohh, yeah, always..." groaned the cop as Blair nipped at his ear-lobe. Jim slowly lifted his arms until they rested around Blair's waist. "...Chief?" he gasped out, his head dropping back as Blair moved down to his throat. 

Blair licked and nibbled Jim's neck until he felt his friend's arms tighten around his waist, then lifting his head, he murmured against Jim's lips. "Don't you want to taste me, Jim?" 

"Taste?" Jim froze, he felt the movement of those lips against his as Blair spoke. Letting his lips drift open a fraction, Jim breathed in Blair's breath, sucking in the scent loaded air around them. 

"Come on, Jim," murmured Blair, his lips still resting against Jim. "What do I taste like?" 

Jim felt Blair's hot mouth move against his, and before he knew it, his lips opened and the man he once though as his Guide was savouring him as if he were a feast. Groaning deep in his throat, Jim lifted his hands from Blair's back and grabbed handfuls of that beautiful hair. Grinding his lips hard against those of his friend's, Jim tightened his hold on that hair, not letting Blair move away until they both needed air. Then after a quick lung-full, Jim pulled the hungry mouth back to his equally hungry one. Opening his lips, Jim pushed at Blair's with his tongue, meeting and greeting the grad student's, the cop groaned again. 

Blair found himself in a daze of passion as he lost control of the kiss and the whole situation. The younger Sentinel pulled the older as close as he could, tasting, touching, *kissing* with all that there was inside of himself. 

Jim slid his mouth free of Blair's and it was his turn to nip and lick at his friend's perfect features. "You taste like the sun reflecting off green, green grass," Jim sighed the words against kiss swollen lips. Closing his eyes, Jim took a deep breathe, "And your scent, your essence? Oh, Blair, that's even headier... The wind as it makes that grass dance. Your scent and your taste twist and turn about me all day, Chief..." 

Blair shuddered from Jim's words, grasping them tightly in his mind, picturing exactly what Jim was talking about, letting himself fall into that hot salty world that was Jim Ellison. 

"Oh, God, Blair," groaned Jim, as he buried his face into that warm curve where shoulder met neck. "I think we've got a problem." 

"I know," moaned Blair as he moved his head so that Jim could get to his ear easier. "Ohh, that's nice, Jim..." 

"Hmm, isn't it," whispered the cop. 

Blair moaned again, trying to collect his fleeting thoughts. 

"Hhmmm?" asked Jim as he muttered around the ear-lobe he was holding between his teeth. 

Blair tried to answer, but Jim's hands had moved down from his neck and somehow they had drifted under his shirt and t-shirt. Cold hands quickly warmed against his hot flesh. "Jim," he finally managed to gasp. "We're in my office!" 

"Yeah, well, I didn't start this..." Jim pulled back and looked into the flushed face of his friend. "You jumped *me,* Blair, after I found you zoned out of your mind. I want to know just what the hell is going on." 

Blair shook his head, trying to clear his mind of the tingles that were flashing alone his nerve endings. 

"Come on, Blair, talk to me..." 

Jim voice had unconsciously become a siren's lure and Blair found himself sliding down off the chair until he was kneeling on the floor like his partner. "Tell you? No... ahh, yes, ahhh..." Blair really tried to answer Jim's questions, but his senses kept overloading his brain, and every time something logical popped up, it was slammed by the taste of Jim's skin, or the scent of his musk, or even the hot look in those beautiful eyes. 

"Come on, Blair," murmured Jim, as he tugged the other man a little closer. 

"Ahh, Jim, can't think when you do that..." His voice drifted slowly to a halt as Blair found himself floating on the wonderful tang that was James Ellison. *Strange,* whispered that part of Blair that the Young Sentinel had kept buried, *You finally realise why you've been acting like such an idiot over the man, but you're scared shitless that he seems to feel the same.* 

"Come on, Blair..." repeated Jim as he controlled his ragging senses even as he knew that Blair's were barely under the younger man's control. 

Blair couldn't answer right away, he was too busy shivering as Jim's hot breath caressed his throat. Then as he got slight control of himself, he moaned, "...later, Jim, tell you later..." His control gone, Blair could only groan and pull Jim closer, searching for the cop's hot mouth. When Jim slid his mouth away from his, Blair tipped his head back, his eyes closed as he felt those hot hands touching him. "I'm in trouble, aren't I, Jim?" gasped Blair as Jim slowly slid his hands across chest. Blair moved his own hands until he could feel the heat of hard body through the cotton of Jim's shirt. 

"Hmm mmm, Chief," murmured Jim, as he felt Blair attack the buttons down the front of his shirt. "Trouble, trouble, trouble," he whispered, "that's all I get from you, Sandburg." Jim shot a hot look into those dazed blue eyes. "Trouble." 

Leaning into Blair's warmth, Jim whispered as trembling fingers rested against his chest. "Don't think this is the end of things, Chief. We're aren't going anywhere until you start to talk to me. Even," Jim nipped at that smooth neck, "...even if it takes all night..." 

When Jim lifted his shirt and touched his skin, his nipple, Blair gasped, his senses were turned up so high he could feel the swirls on the ends of Jim's fingers as the man caressed him. "Jim..." moaning the other man's name, Blair gathered Jim closer, closer, "please, don't stop now... please," his body arching as the sensations flowed across his burning nerves. 

"Stop, Blair?" murmured Jim as he nuzzled into that pale chest, licking that salty skin, "I haven't tasted everything yet, baby... *not at all...*" 

Blair felt himself sliding sideways onto that cold floor, his heightened senses flinching as his skin felt the chill... Then Jim chased any feeling of cold away and his head was filled with the scent of Jim Ellison as the man lay along side of him. *When had all this gotten so far out of control?* was the only sane thought in Blair's head, all else was taken over by the truth of his friend's warmth and weight. One uncontrolled zone-out had turned into something that Blair was unable to fight. 

Jim pushed the cotton of Blair's shirt out of his way, too involved in exploring all the strength and beauty it revealed to try and remove it fully. Kissing his way across Blair's heaving chest, Jim fleetingly thought of what he was doing, and to whom... then his senses kicked back in and he met the other Sentinel touch with touch. 

Sentinel and Sentinel... Jim rested his spinning head on Blair's chest and wrapped his arms tight about the man beneath him. He could hear Blair's heart thudding away beneath his ear.... the cop wondered if his own was beating just as rapidity. 

Blair cradled Jim's resting head between shaking hands. He didn't know why Jim had stopped doing what he'd been doing, but -- the young Sentinel gently caressed Jim's shorn head -- this felt so good... Jim resting against him, skin to skin, the cop's warm breath flowing across his chest. "Jim..." he finally murmured after a very long, still, moment. Lifting his head, Blair looked down at that long, muscular body. "Jim?" 

The cop closed his eyes as Blair's hands moved over and over his head. "One taste," whispered Jim into that sweat slicked skin, "...one taste..." 

Blair sighed and dropped his head back onto the cold floor, staring up at the ceiling. "How, Jim?" came the soft, bewildered voice. "How did it happen?" 

Softly, gently, Jim hugged Blair and lifted his head a little to kiss a smooth piece of skin, "You're asking me? All I know is that one minute I was trying to get you out of a zone-out -- then wham! I have a lover in my arms." 

"Man, it was kind of abrupt, wasn't it," murmured Blair as he rubbed his hands across Jim's shoulders. 

The cop pulled back until he was sitting upright, looking down at his partner. "It was wonderful, Blair." With gentle fingers, Jim gathered up the edges of Blair's shirt and slowly pulled it down to cover all that warmth. 

Blair lay there, watching Jim's face as the cop covered his chest. "Jim?" Blair reached out, glad to see that his hand was steady. "Why, Jim?" 

The cop rested his hand briefly on Blair's quivering belly, then flicked his eyes up to meet those of the Guide turned Sentinel. "We've been friends for a long time, haven't we, Blair?" 

"Getting onto two years, three months... yes, Jim, a long time." 

Jim lifted his hand and smoothed it across Blair's unruly mass of hair. "I like being friends with you, Blair," whispered Jim, as warm blue eyes and soft blue eyes exchanged something that words just couldn't say. 

"So do I, Jim," murmured Blair as he lifted his head a little to let Jim's hand curl under his head. 

"I don't want to loose that, Blair," murmured Jim, lowering his head to place a soft kiss on Blair's swollen lips. 

Blair opened his eyes as the kiss ended, "Neither do I, Jim." 

"Good," whispered Jim as he gathered himself and slowly rose from the floor, backing away from the warmth that was so close, "...good..." 

Pulling up the only other chair in the office, Jim sat down and squeezed his hands between his knees, trying to control their shaking as he watched Blair climb to his feet and sit back in his chair. 

"I want to know the truth, Chief. How did it happen, and why didn't you ever tell me?" 

Blair laugh was as shaky as the fingers that he combed through his messy hair, but Jim deserved the truth. "I've always thought myself as your Guide, Jim. Through all the crap that's happened to us, I've helped you, haven't I?" 

"You know you have, Chief." Jim reached out, and gently clasped the younger man's hands, a deep part of him kind of glad that they were shaking as much as his. 

"I hope..." Blair shot a quick look into those blue eyes, then stared down at their clasped hands. "I hope that you'll alway's see me as your Guide, Jim, no matter what happens..." 

Gently squeezing the now cold hands he held, Jim nodded at Blair to go on. 

Sitting on the edge of his seat, Jim's hands holding his, Blair slowly, and in a voice that gathered strength as he spoke, told his friend what had happened to him all those months ago after that hellish time in the lift, holding nothing back. 

Silence finally fell between the two Sentinel's and the two men sat in front of one another, hands still holding on tight, eyes searching eyes, one looking for truth and the other acceptance. Two different shades of blue slowly brightened as they found what they were looking for.   
  


* * *

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